Black Belladonna
by Volant
Summary: The Maurauders' school days. Sirius gambles with the one thing too precious to be priced- someone else's heart. *THIRD CHAPTER NOW UP* (Go on, review. You know you want to.)
1. Chapter The First

Disclaimer: I. Do. Not. Own. Anything. Is that perfectly clear? And I refuse to repeat myself all the way through this story, so you'll just have to be satisfied with that sentence.  
  
Chapter The First  
  
"Well," said Sirius, standing back to look at his handiwork, "I think it's a work of art. You lot have no artistic taste."  
  
"Sirius, my friend," and Remus clapped him on the shoulder, "if being unappreciative about you writing 'Snivellus is a git' in fluorescent six- foot-high letters on the toilet wall means I've no artistic taste, I must plead guilty."  
  
"You have to admit, Remus, I did the job particularly well." Sirius eyed the glowing letters appreciatively. "That 'S' nicely resembles a serpent. Quite appropriate."  
  
James took the blade of grass he'd been chewing out of his mouth and grinned. "You have flair, Padfoot. Definite flair. Like to be here when dear Snivellus sees it." He messed his hair with one hand. "Slimy git," said Sirius absently, still examining the paintwork cautiously.  
  
"You're turning out to be an even bigger git, standing there staring at that thing like you're in love," commented Remus mildly, leaning against a wall. "Dear Severus would simply adore watching you being dragged off to the Head by your ear. Wash that stuff off."  
  
"Right." Sirius began to scrape at his hands, which were a curious shade of pulsing yellow, in the sink. It was dark- past midnight, as they all well knew- but the paint let off an eerie iridescent glow which served quite nicely as a night-light. "Hey," said James suddenly.  
  
"What?"  
  
"I heard something. Footsteps."  
  
Sirius looked up, head cocked quizzically. For a second the three stood motionless, listening to the faint but unmistakable click of shoes on stone. Remus stared at Sirius' hands, which were now a very pale but still pulsing yellow.  
  
In an instant they were flat in the shadow behind the open door, holding their collective breaths, James with the blade of grass dangling stupidly from his mouth as he listened avidly. Remus's brow furrowed.  
  
The footsteps came nearer and nearer, passed by the door- Sirius cringed- and stopped. Retreated, turned and looked inside. They could hear whatever it was, almost touch it as it stood looking at the painting.  
  
"No," it whispered.  
  
Remus glanced at Sirius, who was suppressing a grin. Danger always made him pleased with himself. James mouthed a word at him. "Snivellus."  
  
"NO!" And the footsteps ran off, up the stairs. They could hear the ensuing cry echo around them, even behind the door, and knew that it would wake most of the castle.  
  
"POTTER!"  
  
"Oh, Gobstones," muttered Remus. In an instant they had flung the door aside, climbed out the window into the icy night and were swinging up the ivy towards Gryffindor Tower. The moon was still a full few days away from fullness- but still, Remus scrambled ahead of his colleagues vertically, exhilarated by the moonshine, the blood rushing to his head. Sirius chuckled softly.  
  
Within a quiet, sweaty two minutes they were swinging silently in the window to their dormitory. James, who was last, looked longingly behind him before leaping inside, soft as a cat. He was a Quidditch player, and consequently had a magnificent head for heights- and he had always liked night. However, he put that longing aside, cursing that they had forgotten the Invisibility Cloak tonight of all nights, and pulled his nightshirt over his head. What was Snape doing wandering around the castle at night, the git?  
  
He laid his head on the pillow and closed his eyes, hearing already the realistically even breathing of Sirius and Remus beside him.  
  
Not a moment too soon.  
  
The door burst open with a loud splintering noise. All the dormitory occupants jumped and sat upright blearily, Sirius perhaps a little quicker than others. In the door stood a hook-nosed boy with incredibly greasy hair, glowering with intense hatred. Behind him stood a tired-looking teacher carrying a candelabra.  
  
"YOU!" shouted Severus Snape, marching over to James, who blinked his eyes several times dazedly. "YOU DID IT!"  
  
"What, Severus?" replied James, attempting to temper his innocent air with a touch of tired resignation, the kind a teacher has when explaining something for the fourteenth time in one lesson. "What did I do?" Remus yawned very convincingly behind him.  
  
"YOU- you-" Snape seemed speechless with fury.  
  
"What's this?" came a groggy voice from a few beds away. "What's he dreaming about now?" James stifled a laugh- Sirius was a magnificent actor. Snape ignored him. "You wrote that!" he hissed.  
  
"What did I write, Severus?" sighed James in a long-suffering manner. He could sense the teacher behind Severus- she was a Charms teacher, but he couldn't remember her name- losing patience.  
  
"'Snivellus is a git!'" snarled Severus, his face twisting. It looked almost supernatural in the half-light of the dim dormitory. There was another yawn beside him, but it wavered within an inch of a laugh. James had a struggle keeping his face straight.  
  
"Did I? Where?" he asked, innocently.  
  
"In the bathrooms- on the third floor-" Severus was going purple in the face. The teacher sniffed furiously several times in succession, sounding for all the world like an indignant tea-kettle.  
  
"Snape, when you accuse your fellow students of damaging school property it is expected that you have proof. As these boys appear to have been in their beds-"  
  
"Proof!" howled Snape, livid, hands clenched. The teacher looked incensed and drew herself up to her full height, small as it was. Snape, seeming to realise this was a mistake, let out a breath and added in a quieter voice, shaking with fury, "Check their clothes and their hands. There must be paint."  
  
In an instant James thought of Sirirus' butter-yellow-glowing hands, and opened his mouth to speak. However, behind him there was a clear voice. 'Excellent idea!" said Sirius.  
  
They had been through this drill before. Every boy slid out of his bed, some groaning, and stood beside it, staring forwards. The teacher gave them a cursory glance and looked at Snape with the kind of expression that made holes in metal.  
  
"Surely glow-in-the-dark paint shows up at night, Snape," she said coldly. Snape made an explosive noise and loped towards the beds of Remus, Sirius and James, examining each of them furiously in turn. Remus returned his gaze extremely coldly, James with mature exasperation. Sirius could hear his wheezing through-the-nose breath as he approached his bed, head inclined forwards like an angry bull.  
  
"Your hands, Black," he said quietly, facing him.  
  
Sirius gave him a playful, if slightly dangerous smile, and held up his palms.  
  
Both were clean. 


	2. Chapter The Second

Chapter The Second  
  
"Well?"  
  
"What?"  
  
"What was it? Vanishing spell?"  
  
Sirius attempted to look innocent, chewing his morning toast with a distinct air of merriment. "No idea what you're talking about, James," he said airily, eyeing the ceiling's bright blue expanses. "Going to be a nice day, do you think?"  
  
"Sirius," said Remus in a low voice.  
  
Sirius grinned, his outer teeth slightly pointed like a dog. A first-year with black curls glanced at the grin, which was, as usual, extremely charming, and blushed a deep crimson. She suddenly found something extraordinarily interesting in the Daily Prophet and buried her head in it.  
  
"If you must know," he said airily, "I wiped it on the Cloak."  
  
"You didn't!"  
  
"Yes, I did."  
  
James exchanged looks with Remus. "That stuff," he said uncertainly, "stains, doesn't it?"  
  
Sirius gave them both a quick glance and leaned forward.  
  
"Worried about being marked men, are we?" he grinned. "Bright fluorescent handprints on our invisible adventures?" James snorted and looked away, towards a girl with flashing green eyes who was talking to a friend at the end of the table. Remus, however, continued to stare at Sirius.  
  
"If anybody discovers the Cloak, Sirius, the whole thing crumbles like a pack of cards. You spent years figuring out that-" he lowered his voice even further, to a kind of vibrating wolfish baritone- "Animagi spell, and now you're getting cocky. Don't. Where did you hide it?"  
  
"I gave it to the house-elves to clean," said Sirius lightly. "Asked them to have it back by tonight."  
  
"Well, then," said James, slightly absently- he was still staring at the girl with green eyes, who was laughing with her head back now- "that's all settled." He flicked a look at Remus. "Honestly, Moony, you should try to lighten up a bit."  
  
Sirius laughed, and poked Remus teasingly. "Yeah, we're just trying to have some fun."  
  
*~*~*~*  
  
"EVANS!"  
  
The girl with the green eyes propped herself up on her elbows sheepishly. She was sprawled beside a mangled cauldron in a pool of green slime, splotches of which were dripping from everyone within a six-foot radius.  
  
"What have I told you, Evans, about the importance of not adding more than four drops of belladonna to a Submerging Potion?" bellowed Professor Squatchunk, his round stomach rising indignantly under his robes. He looked, as usual, like an inflating toad.  
  
"Yes, sir. Sorry, sir," muttered Evans. James snorted and managed to change it rapidly into a cough, but not before Evans shot him a look of loathing.  
  
James' and Sirius' potions were a simmering orange, like a good soup. Lupin was absent- he had gone for his monthly holiday to visit his mother. Subsiding slightly, Professor Squatchunk examined them with the huffing precision of a military general inspecting troops.  
  
"Look here!" he bellowed, pointing to Sirius's potion. Several students jumped, and Evans almost dropped the remains of her cauldron. "Black has produced a perfect Submerging Potion!"  
  
"Ah, Professor, you shouldn't," said Sirius simperingly, pretending to blush. James snorted again. Professor Squatchunk cast him a look from under his bushy eyebrows and wriggled his moustache. "That's quite enough cheek from you. For that, you can help Evans clean up her miserable effort." And he moved away.  
  
James stopped laughing abruptly and whispered indignantly to Sirius, who didn't look in the least upset with his punishment, "What was wrong with my potion? It was just as good as yours- especially after we made it about a year ago to visit the mermaids in the Lake!"  
  
"Ah, you just want to be alone with Evans," said Sirius out of the corner of his mouth. "Besides, you have Quidditch practise."  
  
"True." James looked moodily at Evans, who was scrubbing her green concoction off the tiles with an expression of disgust. "All the same, it doesn't seem fair."  
  
"Life isn't, chum," laughed Sirius quietly as the class began to file out of the classroom, shrieking and talking. "Go on," he added, pushing his friend's shoulder, "go and have fun. I'll serve my time. You've been pining too much lately."  
  
James nodded, grinned, and with a last look at Evans grabbed his books and disappeared. Sirius scrubbed quietly alongside Evans, who was scraping at the residue murderously.  
  
"I don't have time for this!" she burst, and threw her cloth on the floor. "WHY doesn't Submerging Potion dissolve by magic?"  
  
"The dragon's essence," said Sirius quietly.  
  
"What?"  
  
"The dragon's essence resists magic attempts to make it dissolve. It was developed to let wizards have underwater duels, and that was a precaution to make sure the opposition couldn't leave them without any air." He was careful not to look at her.  
  
"Oh, you think you're so smart!" exploded Evans.  
  
"Hey, you asked a question, I answered it." Sirius got up. "Well, that's done. Hurry off to your Book Club or whatever you're late for."  
  
Lily snorted derisively. "One of these days you're going to get into trouble, Black. You can tell that to Potter as well," she said to his retreating back, but with a slightly calmer air than before.  
  
Sirius grinned to himself. Poor old Evans. One of these days she would have to stop fighting.  
  
He wandered the corridors, hopped absently over an invisible step, saluted a few suits of armour who obediently, if creakily, saluted back. His mind was elsewhere, running over plots and thoughts for the future, so when someone rounded the corner in front of him he ran straight into them.  
  
"Oof! Sorry."  
  
The first thought that crossed his mind was that he'd run into the Bloody Baron- the person was, after all, wearing a full-length hooded cloak- but ghosts are not solid, and the impact with whoever it was had taken his breath away. Without a word, the person passed him and continued down the corridor. Definitely a person- though very slim, and walking in a way that resembled a glide. At the branch at the end of the passage, it stopped momentarily and turned its head in both directions- Sirius caught a flash of a face, of eyes and a nose- before disappearing into the left fork.  
  
Mildly disconcerted, Sirius looked after it for a few seconds, then picked up his books and made his way to the Gryffindor common room. 


	3. Chapter the Third

Chapter the Third  
  
"So it was a person." James settled back in his chair, minorly sweaty from Quidditch practise, and ran his hands through his wet hair. The common room was relatively empty- people had already started going down for dinner- but the two boys felt like staying by the fire for a bit. "It's raining like a waterfall out there, did you notice?"  
  
"I've never seen them here before," said Sirius. "Besides, just gliding by, without a word-"  
  
"Sounds like you're a little freaked out," laughed James. Sirius laughed too. "Nah," he said. "It was a little disturbing, though."  
  
"We've got other stuff to think about- oh, hey, Peter."  
  
A slightly stunted, eager-to-please kid had trotted up beside them and pulled up a chair and muttered a greeting in a high voice that sounded like a squeak. Water dripped from his hair as well. Sirius was curious.  
  
"Where've you been, Peter?"  
  
"Watching James play Quidditch," he answered nervously, shooting James a look of fervent admiration.  
  
"Peter- it was pouring," said James, concerned but at the same time evidently chuffed.  
  
"Well-" Peter shrugged, his cheeks bright red.  
  
"Forget it. Let's go to dinner," said Sirius, getting up.  
  
"You know," remarked James lightly, as they were coming out of the portrait hole, "I reckon you're going to find out who that person in the corridor was before long. I mean, nobody can wander around this castle without being found out for long, can they?"  
  
"Mmm." Sirius looked around him, but nobody was wearing a full-length cloak. "We'll see."  
  
"We're working on the Wronski Feint right now, but soon, you know, we might move onto something a bit more advanced," said James with an air of carelessness, running a finger back through his fringe.  
  
The gaggle of girls around James sighed appreciatively. Sirius looked at his friend and chuckled. The fan club grew larger by the day. (The girl with black curls peered bashfully at him around the jar of mint sauce and whispered something tentatively to her neighbour, who started to giggle.) Idly he played with the food on his plate- with Remus indisposed and James preoccupied, there was nobody to talk to about interesting stuff like midnight raids or past pranks. He needed some entertainment.  
  
With an ease that was almost illegal, he set about baiting the two people sitting opposite him. Vincent Delfune and Rory Flitwick usually got along fine, but a few clever verbal manoeuvres set them bickering.  
  
"You've got to be kidding, Vincent! The Chudley Cannons haven't won the League in years!"  
  
"Rory, I'm warning you- if you insult my team one more time you'll be Transfigured into a Chudley Cannons hat, see if you don't!"  
  
"Come on, admit it- the Wasps beat them out of the game!"  
  
"The WASPS? What a sorry excuse for a team are THEY- they can't even catch the Snitch, the Seeker's blind as a bat!"  
  
"He is NOT!"  
  
Yes, definitely entertaining. Vincent's face was going a glowering shade of red, and Rory was squeaking wildly. He kept on jumping up and down, meaning that his head appeared every few seconds above the tablecloth and then disappeared again. Even when standing on his chair he couldn't reach the table.  
  
Sirius settled back and watched them, attempting to maintain a look of interest and restrain his rising grin. Eventually he got bored- they had resorted to insulting each other's families now- and turned in his seat to look around the Hall. There was Snivellus, shovelling food into his greasy snout- and Evans, animatedly carrying on a discussion which looked at a distance to be about something interesting, at least from the energy which she and her friends were putting into it, but which Sirius knew was probably about homework. He sighed, and his eyes wandered idly to the Staff Table.  
  
The person in the cloak was sitting at the far end, calmly eating soup.  
  
As though aware they were being watched, the head- still fully swathed- turned in his direction, looking, it seemed, straight past the teacher sitting opposite, directly at Sirius.  
  
There was a moment of spellbound silence, where the air hummed and stood still.  
  
Then the head looked towards Rory, who was now shaking his fist in Vincent's face, and swung evenly back to stare at Sirius again. There was no face to be seen.  
  
He felt something unpleasant stir inside him, and realised in a horrible flash that it was shame. 


	4. Chapter the Fourth things start to get i...

(Note before I start: This is NOT, repeat NOT, a meaningless put-yourself- in-Hogwarts story. I have no desire whatsoever to be Aaviela, and once the narrative gets on its way you will understand why. I hate tedious introducing-character chapters, but it must be done.)  
  
Chapter The Fourth  
  
"Happy?"  
  
Lily started, realised the question had been directed at her, and nodded feverishly. The class was silent. Sirius felt numb.  
  
"Good." Aaviela replaced her hood- the scathing blue eyes disappeared. "Get on with the lesson, Professor."  
  
"Today, class, we will examine the effects-" Professor Tritance not only obeyed Aaviela unquestioningly and immediately, Sirius noticed, she pretended nothing whatsoever had happened. She seemed almost afraid of her. But who would be afraid of a girl? Just a girl, he added to himself contemptuously. Once her eyes, so cool and strangely intense, were hidden, he felt a surge of confidence. Barely my age. Just a girl.  
  
The atmosphere of the classroom that lesson was as horribly taut as a violin string. The silhouette in the shadows did not move once, nor make another sound. Everyone ignored it, seeming determined to pretend that it did not exist. Professor Tritance herself kept her back to it the entire lesson. Nobody dared make a sound. The appearance of Aaviela's face had alleviated curiosity, but it had also done something else. If anything, thought Sirius, increasingly uncomfortable, his newfound confidence slipping away, it had given a name to a silent fear. It seemed almost instinct to be frightened of her. Why, then, was he not?  
  
The lesson ended. There was an audible sigh of relief and people began to talk again, crowding around the doors with more hastiness than was usual. Sirius gathered up his books slowly, keeping his eyes carefully averted from the shape in the corner, but could feel her looking at him, looking right through him. He was the last to leave.  
  
The corridor was empty when he stepped out of the classroom and began to walk to his next class. For some reason or other he felt free.  
  
There was a crash.  
  
Peeves came ripping along the corridor, cackling like a maniac and wearing, so it seemed, a much taller hat than usual. Sirius ducked as he whizzed over his head, and looked up in amazement. Peeves was careening along with a pile of library books, heavy and ancient, balanced on his hat, and laughing his head off. Every so often he would pull a book off and throw it behind him. The books bounced off the walls with mighty cracks as bindings snapped and pages burst everywhere, and a particularly lucky throw hit the helmet off a suit of armour. The suit of armour, looking as indignant as it is possible for a headless suit of armour to look, knelt down to grope around for its helmet, only to be knocked flat by the fat librarian, Mr Pringlesnap. He collided directly with the helmet, and it stuck on his head.  
  
"PEEVES!"  
  
Sirius buried his head in his arms to protect himself from a fresh explosion of paper. There was a wild scream of laughter and another crash, further away.  
  
Then there was silence.  
  
His face still covered by his hands, Sirius looked between the cracks of his elbows. He breathed in sharply.  
  
Peeves had stopped directly in front of the classroom. A fully cloaked Aaviela was standing the doorway, ever so quietly watching him, hands folded. Sirius shivered. A funny chill went down his spine.  
  
The books dropped loudly to the floor. The bangs as they hit the flagstones echoed. Peeves was no longer bobbing, as he usually did when stationary. He was as still as if he had been hung from that very spot, and his face was twisted with a fear so intense it contained physical pain.  
  
One of Aaviela's hands emerged from the cloak. It was raised, flat, towards Peeves, as though she were about to give him a high-five. For an instant- Sirius blinked several times- it looked as though it glowed a bright shade of purple. Peeves gave a high-pitched shriek, like an animal being tortured, and shot off down the corridor and out of sight.  
  
The hand remained raised for a few seconds before it once more immersed itself in the folds of the cloak. For the first time Sirius noticed that a long tattoo snaked around her wrist. It looked like a stream of Celtic runes, but he was too far away to be sure.  
  
With a silent movement the cloaked head turned towards him.  
  
He clutched his books to his chest, stumbled onto his feet and ran. The thought of those eyes, blue and green and cold as death, pursued him all the way to Divination.  
  
*~*~*  
  
"She did WHAT?"  
  
"You heard me." Sirius was suddenly very tired. This wasn't the way life was supposed to be working out. He was at school to have fun! He sat down on the bed heavily, feeling drained.  
  
"And Peeves just hung there?" Peter whispered, looking as though he was going to split out of his skin with terror.  
  
"Yes. Like he was Petrified," said Sirius wearily. He had recounted the story twice, once for James, once for Peter. James shifted uneasily.  
  
"Who is this Aaviela chick anyway?" he said, with fake breeziness. James hated to be frightened of anything. The 'chick' jarred nastily against the name.  
  
"That's not the right question."  
  
"What is, then?"  
  
"The right question is- what is she?"  
  
James and Peter looked at Sirius and then at each other. He could smell their fear. "What do you mean, what is she?" quavered Peter, trying to sound brave.  
  
"We know what she isn't," offered James, nonchalant, but with a strange note in his voice. "She isn't a student, or a teacher. She isn't normal."  
  
"James, my friend, that is an excellent summary of the situation." Sirius did his best to restrain his sarcasm to the point, enjoying, in his strange weary annoyance, seeing James squirm. "There is one fault. You left out something crucial."  
  
"What's that?" Sirius saw a flicker of apprehension behind James's eyes. His capacity for venom was lethal, and legendary.  
  
"She isn't human, either." 


End file.
